


Left-Hand Man

by kadotoriku



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Canon Universe, Dark Sirius Black, Gen, Magic, Sirius Black's Flying Motorbike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28913355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kadotoriku/pseuds/kadotoriku
Summary: With the Dark Lord mysteriously disappearing on Samhain, His remaining loyal followers are left on the run from Aurors. Bellatrix and Rabastan find themselves cornered not by someone operating under the oath of law, but by someone who's far,farmore cruel:A godfather scorned.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Gen Prompt Bingo Round 19





	Left-Hand Man

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my [Banned Together Bingo 2020](https://kadotoriku.dreamwidth.org/1001.html) square of [Too Fantastical] because, well... Harry Potter. Flying motorbikes. This is also a fill for my [Bad Things Happen Bingo](https://kadotoriku.dreamwidth.org/535.html) square of [You Can Scream All You Want] and for my [Genprompt Bingo](https://kadotoriku.dreamwidth.org/2729.html) square of [Fear/Terror].

“ _It’s a dead end!_ ”

Bellatrix and her husband’s brother—Rabastan—skid to a halt as the turn they make leads them to nowhere. She immediately tries to Apparate again, cursing under her breath when she feels the tell-tale barrier of an Anti-Disapparition Jinx push against her magic. They’ve run a few streets already, how far did their pursuers spread the spell?

Tightening her grip on her wand, she and Rabastan put their backs to the stone wall. She steadies her breathing and tries to calm her racing heart. The two of them split up with Barty and Rodolphus earlier to try and shake off their enemies. She will _not_ go down without a fight. Her Lord is not _dead_. He will never fall in battle, especially to some nameless _Mudblood_ and her pathetic _blood-traitor_ husband.

_Clack-tap._

_Clack-tap._

Rabastan and her share a look. That... that doesn’t sound like Aurors or Hit Wizards coming to their location. Bellatrix suppresses a scoff; it could be another one of those drunkard Muggles unfortunate enough to come near their kind. Despite that, a small unnerving feeling of unease settles in her stomach. Her eyes flicker to the man beside her, watching as he whispers healing spells to close up some of the cuts he sustained.

_Clack-tap._

_Clack-tap._

She then recognizes it as the sound of boots against the pavement. It comes at a steady, unhurried pace as if the person approaching is merely taking a merry walk under the moonlight. Bellatrix doesn’t allow herself to relax, knowing that it could be the unknown witch or wizard that nearly caught them all in an explosion.

_Clack-tap._

_Clack-tap._

A shadow gradually appears in the corner of the turn she and Rabastan took, growing as the person approached. She looks around the area they’re caged in, mentally berating herself for allowing herself to get cornered. Her Lord would be severely disappointed in her if she went down like a sniveling Muggle.

_Clack-tap._

_Clack-tap._

Bellatrix instinctively flinches when the loud sound of a whistle pierces through the tense silence, the plebian upbeat tune ringing in her ears. She grits her teeth, tempted to march over and blast whoever that is _right this instant,_ but she knows she can’t while their pursuers are still out there and there are spells in place to prevent a quick escape. Inching forward, she takes on a dueling stance.

_Clack-tap._

_Clack-tap._

Just a few steps away from being fully visible, a figure cloaked in darkness strides into view. The person’s obnoxious whistling lowers in volume until he’s completely silent, facing the two Death Eaters and boots stopping in their tracks.

Not one to waste time, Bellatrix reacts by jabbing her wand forward and hissing:

“ _Avada Kedavra_!”

A flash of blindingly green light erupts from her wand, shooting towards the newcomer. For a brief moment, the spell illuminates the stranger’s face before he steps to the right and under the moonlight to avoid it.

The Killing Curse collides with the stone wall, leaving a black scorch mark in its wake. Bellatrix sneers, taking in the sight of the signature stormy gray eyes of the Black family, medium length hair flowing freely until his shoulders, his filthy Muggle clothing, and that unsightly leather jacket of his.

Sirius Black stands across them unfazed, twirling his wand in his hands.

“Hello, _cousin_ ,” Bellatrix says with thinly veiled disgust.

“Cousin. Cousin-in-law,” he greets back casually, the friendly smile on his face contradicting his hardened, steely gaze. “Wonderful evening we’re having.”

Two against one, is he trying to get himself killed? Seems like it, considering how close Bellatrix’s curse was to hitting him. _Foolish Gryffindor_. She and Rabastan will take great pleasure in teaching him what happens when one openly defies the Dark Lord.

If he didn’t run away to that blood-traitor Potter family and tarnish his purity by interacting with those magic-stealing _Mudbloods_ , her cousin would’ve made a good addition to the Dark Lord’s forces. What a shame, but there’s no point in crying over spilled potions.

“How’s the filthy blood traitor and his family?” Rabastan taunts.

Sirius taps his wand against his thigh, not rising to the bait as expected of him.

“ _James_ is alive and well, so is my godson,” he says calmly, voice uncharacteristically steady. “Lily laid down _her_ life for them and I’m here to make sure that it will _not_ be in vain.”

“Aw, so are you here _alone_?” Bellatrix teases, boldly taking a step forward. “Going to avenge the dead Mudblood for Potter? Where’s your precious ickle wittle Order? And the half-breed?”

“Remus? Oh, he’s spending some quality time with Crouch and the other Lestrange.” He shrugs, waving his hand dismissively.

His nonchalance irritates her, igniting her desire to hex him into oblivion. Why is he so calm at the face of his impending doom and potential death? He should be _afraid_. He should be fearing for his life. He should be _begging_ to be spared when the Dark Lord returns with only His most faithful at his side.

‘ _Homenum revelio_ ,’ she casts nonverbally, searching for the tell-tale signs of someone under the Disillusionment Charm.

Rabastan side-eyes her, clearly having felt the subtle but recognizable prickling feeling of the spell. There are no other people in their vicinity, not under invisibility cloaks nor concealing spells.

And it’s not like _Lupin_ can defeat _two_ members of the Dark Lord’s elite inner circle. Sirius is bluffing, no doubt, and his half-breed freak must’ve gotten killed or ran away with his tail between his legs.

She dismisses her initial concerns, pointedly ignoring the strange gnawing sensation in her gut. As much as she despises her cousin and his merry band of blood traitors, she _does_ begrudgingly acknowledge their dueling prowess and skills on the battlefield. That old foolish Dumbledore _does_ have a few hidden gems in his vigilante group, but they’re no match for the power of the finest Dark witches and wizards handpicked by her Lord.

“Eager to walk to your death, Black?” Rabastan says.

Sirius lets out a small laugh.

His smile borders on something sinister as he raises his wand beside his head, pointing it towards the sky. “I’d hate to cut our reunion short, but let it be known that _I’m_ not the one who’s dying tonight.”

Then, a strong, intoxicating smell invades her nostrils.

Something that vaguely resembles the scent of alcohol and oil. Bellatrix throws up her most powerful shield as she and Rabastan whip their heads to glance upward. She sees the shimmer of something Disillusioned and has only a split second to react before a dark shadow blocks her view of the night sky.

She hastily throws herself to the right, nearly losing her balance as a giant object crashes onto where she was previously standing. Dust flies and a cloud forms, limiting her vision as she shields her eyes. In the general direction of her cousin, she fires a few curses yet strangely does not get any spellfire back at her.

That wretched Muggle contraption of Sirius’ roars, letting out a sound similar to an animalistic snarl as the jewel at its front illuminates the alleyway. Bellatrix warily maintains her distance as it makes an ear-splitting screech and tackles Rabastan like a wild animal, prompting the man to go down with a shout.

Caught off-guard, she spouts out rapid-fire curses at its metallic body while keeping an eye on Sirius, who has yet to move from his position.

Did he leave an illusion to fool her?

All the racket will surely attract more people to their area. Bellatrix growls and increases her spells’ intensities. She has to get herself and Rabastan outside the ward’s range before enemy reinforcements arrive. Regroup with Barty and Rodolphus if possible. Hide out in one of their safe houses to await the return of their Lord so he can slaughter all these lowlifes.

Except the bloody thing on Rabastan is. Simply. Not. Budging!

No levitation, blasting, or summoning spell gets it off of the man’s chest. She screeches his name but it’s drowned out by the incessant howling of the machine as its dark wheels spin and its body arcs downward _towards Rabastan’s chest_.

Blood leaks from his mouth from the pressure, body convulsing as the object moves at an agonizingly slow pace forward and to his _face_. She halts in her spellcasting, knowing an absolutely lost cause when she sees one. Bones audibly crack and shatter, crunching and snapping like twigs crushed under boots.

It’s a gruesome sight that Bellatrix has a difficult time looking away from, transfixed at the crimson liquid spilling in all directions as the wheels increases in speed. A few drops of blood are caught by her robe, and the alley’s walls stained with proof of what transpired within.

“SIRIUS!” she bellows with her wand raised at the ready. “Come out and duel me, you filthy coward!”

Her hands shake subtly and her eyes dart from Sirius to his... pet? She’s at a loss what to refer to it as, for its protruding handles are a hazard if it were to pounce at her next.

The putrid smell of charred skin mingles with the blood and oil wafting in the air. She has to hold back her own vomit, loathing and berating herself for her presentation of weakness. She’s tortured hundreds of people and cast thousands of Dark magic in her life, so why is she so unsettled?

“You can scream all you want, cousin dearest.” Sirius grins, showing off his teeth in a cheery manner that becomes... _unnerving_ with the knowledge that he mutilated Rabastan’s corpse without an ounce of visible remorse.

It’s as if he senses her unease, attracted to it like a predator that’s bid its time long enough for the prey to drive itself mad from paranoia. His eyes glimmer with vindictive cruelty, an unspoken promise of the pain he’ll put her through. “But I doubt anyone will hear you.”

His pet growls in agreement, blinding her with its ball of light.

It lunges at her.

Bellatrix screams.

**Author's Note:**

> Found this draft from May 17, 2020 so I decided to dust it off after getting a burst of inspiration from rereading it.
> 
> This is partially inspired by a prompt I read that asks for BAMF!Light Lord!James Potter that survives Halloween and goes on to oppose Voldy with his own army. It's also brought to life by that one fic on ffnet titled "Dark Marauder". Good shit, I promise you. I love me some dark!Marauder fics.
> 
> No idea how I came to the idea of making Bellatrix unsettled by Sirius' "pet" motorbike, but I rolled with it.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, thank you for reading! :D Comments are always appreciated.


End file.
